Green House Effect
by ChubbyCubby23
Summary: It's unbearably hot and muggy, and the air conditioning just isn't cutting it. This is a continuation of my prompt story 'He Decided to Send Flowers'. It's fluffy, but if you don't like chubby!Russia, than this is your only warning to think about not reading this. It's not anything kinky (at least not seriously), but be aware that it's there before you click!


Ivan shifted uncomfortably in bed, Francis' unconscious cuddling adding to the already stifling heat of the sweltering summer night.

The air conditioning in Francis' apartment didn't really reach the bedroom, so it only ever felt marginally better on the off chance that a small wave of cold air made it into the room. Francis dealt with the heat much better than Ivan did, but even he was being forced to sleep in only his boxers to stay relatively cool - not that the wavy haired blonde was complaining, mind you.

And even though Ivan felt like he was melting from the summer heat, he was still stubbornly clad in his favorite hoodie and a pair of light grey sweatpants. He felt miserably hot and sweaty, but Ivan was too embarrassed to wear anything else to bed when he was sleeping with Francis.

Over the past year or so that he'd been with Francis, Ivan had put on a good hundred and twenty pounds, and he couldn't help feeling terribly insecure about the extra weight. Compared to Francis, who was lean and fit, Ivan simply felt like he was too...big. He knew that his sudden weight gain wasn't just because of his weakness for Francis' amazing cooking or sweets, the anti-depressant medication he was taking had a hand in it as well. But Ivan couldn't go off of his medication just like that, and no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to drop the extra weight.

So here Ivan was, laying in bed, half-awake and sweating like a pig, because he was too uncomfortable with his body now to wear less in bed while he was sleeping with his boyfriend.

Even when it was _ninety-something degrees_, and he was still wearing sweats.

...Damn his stupid self-consciousness...

So, after carefully inching away from Francis' snuggling, Ivan rolled out of bed as quietly as he could. He grabbed his pillow from the soft mattress, and, feeling around in the dark, Ivan stumbled his way into the other room. After colliding into the sofa with a surprised grunt, Ivan dumped his pillow onto one end before gracelessly flopping down and curling up on the burgundy piece of furniture. Ivan let out a deep breath as the cool air from the A/C washed over his hot, flushed face.

* * *

Francis inhaled deeply through his nose, opening his eyes sleepily and raising his head when he felt the bed dip with a sharp creak of metal springs. He could hear the soft padding of bare feet against the carpet as Ivan shuffled out of the bedroom in the dark.

Smiling lopsidedly as he curled his legs up underneath the light bed covers he kept on during the summer, Francis reached over for his partner's pillow, so that he could snuggle into that until Ivan came back to bed, but his hand found nothing but empty space. Francis brought himself into an upright sitting position, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Francis slipped out of bed with barely any sound, the light-weight sheets whispering across his bare skin as they pooled at the foot of the bed from his movement. His ocean blue eyes squinted in the dark as he moved forward, his arms stretched out before him to ward off against bumping into something.

He couldn't help but sigh in relief as the A/C blasted a refreshingly cool wave of air against his heated skin, his eyes drifting shut as he rested up against the back of the sofa so that he could properly enjoy the cold air.

Slowly opening his eyes to the soft sound of relaxed breathing, Francis let his gaze drop to the other side of the sofa.

"Why are you sleeping out here, Jean*? And without me, too!" Francis pouted, leaning over the sofa's back to gaze down at his Russian boyfriend.

Ivan let out a surprised squeak, falling off the sofa with a solid thump. "F-Francis! Did...Did I wake you up when I got out of bed?" he asked hesitantly, scrambling back to his feet.

"Oui*, you did, but that's not the problem...is it, Ivan?" the Frenchman murmured, moving around the sofa so that he could sit next to Ivan. Francis had noticed that something was bothering his partner these last couple of months - he wasn't eating as much, he never wanted to do anything intimate, and he just seemed distant - and with Ivan's history of depression, Francis was starting to get a little worried about him.

"I, uh, I just couldn't get to sleep...It was too hot in the bedroom," Ivan muttered in a deflecting tone, his purple eyes shifting back and forth so that he didn't have to look directly at his boyfriend.

Cocking a thin eyebrow, Francis pinched the soft material of Ivan's purple hoodie between his thumb and index finger, and tugged on it, saying in an incredulous tone, "Then why didn't you take _these_ off if you were too hot, sweetheart?"

"Too much effort," Ivan replied, trying to subtly suck in his belly when he felt Francis' fingers brush against his side.

"More effort than getting out of bed, grabbing your pillow, and coming out here for the night?" Francis chuckled in the back of his throat, brushing some of his wavy blonde hair behind his ear.

"Da*...," Ivan answered stubbornly, knowing that he was acting like a child about this.

Francis shook his head, sighing as he leaned into Ivan's side. "Alright, amour*, alright...We'll do it your way, and sleep out here for the rest of the night. It _is_ more comfortable in here with the air conditioning flowing freely," he commented, shifting so that the two of them were both laying down in a comfortable position. It was a bit cramped for space on the sofa - which was more like a love seat, anyway - but Francis didn't mind that at all.

Ivan allowed himself to be pushed down by the Frenchman, though he was having a miniature panic attack because Francis was practically laying on top of him. "S-Sorry to be such a problem, but it's just so much cooler in here than in the bedroom," he huffed, hoping that the way Francis' sculpted body dipped into his fat stomach wasn't as painfully obvious to his boyfriend as it was to him.

"Not a problem at all, Jean, but you'd be a lot more comfortable without these winter clothes on," Francis stated knowingly, resting his chin on Ivan's chest for a brief moment. He cupped his boyfriend's sweaty face between his hands, rubbing his thumbs against the Russian's horribly flushed cheeks. "I don't like seeing you so uncomfortable, especially when it can so easily be fixed! Just take off those stifling clothes, you're going to give yourself heat stroke..."

"Don't wanna...," Ivan grumbled, trying to pull his head away from Francis' slightly cooler hands.

Sighing in mild frustration, but keeping his palms firmly placed on either side of Ivan's round face, Francis asked, "And why not, sweetheart?"

Ivan licked his lips, squirming a little under the blonde's scrutiny. "B...Because," he stuttered out in a low voice, closing his eyes when Francis' mint toothpaste breath hit him in the face as the Frenchman kissed him on the nose.

"Talk to me, Ivan...I know something's been bothering you lately, but I can't understand or help unless you _tell_ me what's going on with you," Francis murmured in a firm voice, smiling encouragingly at the Russian as he messed his thin fingers into Ivan's soft beige hair.

"Mm...," Ivan hesitated for a moment before mumbling something into the collar of his hoodie.

Scratching lightly at Ivan's scalp and behind his ear, Francis said in a soft tone, "I'm sorry, amour, I didn't hear you..."

"'M too big," Ivan repeated, his face flushed red from embarrassment rather than the heat.

"Usually, men complain about being too small~" Francis chuckled.

"No! That's...That's not what I meant, Francis!" Ivan balked, maneuvering them both back into a sitting position. "_Big_, I'm too _big_...," he complained, resting his hands on his stomach as he brought his legs up so that he could hunch in on himself. "Alfred called me a marshmallow...," he added, frowning.

Francis blinked in surprise, his laughter dying off. "W-What?"

Ivan gave him a pained look before hiding his red face in his arms, which were resting against his kneecaps. "P-Please don't make me say it again, Francis...," he muttered, his voice coming out muffled.

"Oh, sweetheart...There's nothing for you to be ashamed of!" the wavy haired blonde exclaimed, curling up next to Ivan so that he could hug the Russian tightly.

"But you're so _perfect_, and I'm so...," Ivan trailed off, making a half-hearted gesture at himself. "I-I've tried to lose the weight, but I just _can't_."

"Ah...So that's why you've been eating such small amounts, and passing up every dessert I make for you," Francis said, realization suddenly hitting him.

Ivan nodded jerkily, wiping at his sweaty face with a purple sleeve. "Da, and that was really hard...I've missed your food, and Katya's food, and Mississippi Mud*, and cinnamon rolls, and-"

Francis laughed, interrupting Ivan's list of treats by pressing a kiss to his plump cheek. "Ivan, what matters most to me is that you're happy and healthy. My love for you isn't based on your looks - those are an added bonus~" he purred in his boyfriend's ear, smirking when Ivan shuddered at the ticklish feeling of his breath hitting him right in the ear. "You're cute, and cuddly, and soft - quite like a marshmallow, indeed - but you're sweeter than any treat I could eat."

Ivan's blush deepened at Francis' words; a small, somewhat goofy smile breaking onto his face.

Francis let out a surprised gasp when he suddenly found himself caught underneath Ivan in a crushing embrace, the clashing smell of sweat and clean laundry filling his nostrils. Ivan settled onto Francis like a big, lazy cat, wrapping his arms around the Frenchman's torso as he murmured against Francis' neck in Russian.

"That makes me happy, Francis...," Ivan breathed out in a grateful tone, nuzzling against Francis' smooth cheek.

Francis smiled softly, sweat already starting to bead on his forehead from the smothering heat that Ivan was giving off. "Glad to hear it, amour; after all, I'm only happy when you're happy," he hummed out, returning the Russian's affections. "But, will you please take off these horrid clothes now? You're starting to make _me_ all hot and sweaty," he pleaded, pulling the hood over Ivan's head with a playful quirk of the lips. "I'll give you a treat if you do~" the blonde added teasingly.

Ivan smiled underneath the hood, pushing it back off his head so that he could see as he sat back. "A treat? Something...special?" he inquired, watching curiously as Francis got up from the sofa and sauntered into the kitchen.

"Yes, very special; you'll like it, trust me," Francis laughed, getting out a couple of bowls and spoons. "But, you don't get the treat unless you take off those sweatpants and that hoodie," he said in a reminding tone, opening up the freezer and searching around for a while.

By the time Francis came back out to the sofa with the two bowls in hand, Ivan was fidgeting eagerly in just a pair of tight-fitting boxer shorts. Glancing at the discarded clothes on the floor, Francis sat back down next to his boyfriend, handing him one of the ceramic bowls. "Doesn't that feel better, hm?" he asked, setting his bowl in his lap as he started to rub lazy circles into Ivan's bare back.

Ivan purred at the attention, arching into Francis' touch slightly. He sighed in contentment at the cold that seeped off of the blue bowl in his large hands, eagerly digging his spoon into whatever the treat was without even looking, and shoving it into his mouth. A pleased rumble built up in his chest as Ivan shoveled more into his mouth, the cold radiating out from his stomach to cool off the rest of his body as he swallowed.

"Is it good, Ivan?" Francis asked, though the question was rather unnecessary. "I was saving it for Alfred's pool party this weekend, but I can make more for that later."

Licking his lips, Ivan replied, "It's the best! Peanut butter and chocolate fudge brownies with peppermint ice cream...Mm, I missed your cooking so much, Francis."

Francis chuckled, wiping a smudge of chocolate from the corner his boyfriend's mouth. "I thought you'd enjoy it, especially after denying yourself such pleasures for several months now," the blonde said, spooning off a small amount of the dessert from his bowl and slowly licking it off the spoon. "You really had me worried about you, you know. When you stopped wanting to cuddle with me, when you weren't eating your favorite foods or barely eating at all...Well, I thought you were starting to have a relapse. You didn't want to talk either, and we've always been able to talk to each other...," he murmured, closing his eyes briefly.

Ivan faltered in his eating, swallowing hard as guilt crept up on him. "Francis...Francis, I'm really sorry for worrying and upsetting you. It's just...you were the only one to really stick with me when I was having my...problems, and I didn't want to lose you because of this," he stated in a concerned tone, setting aside his empty bowl so that he could give Francis all of his attention. He cuddled into the wavy haired blonde, kissing along his jaw line. "I want to cuddle now, if you're still up for it," he rumbled in a low voice.

Francis grinned, immediately placing his barely touched dessert off to the side. "I can't believe you thought I was going to leave you just because you've got a chubby little tummy. Silly bear," he cooed, splaying his palm across Ivan's soft middle.

The Russian pouted, giving his boyfriend a kicked puppy expression. "It's not that little, but, yes...I was sort of afraid that was going to happen," he answered honestly, inhaling the blonde's strong cologne scent - it didn't seem to matter if he had just had a shower, Francis always seemed to smell of expensive cologne.

Bringing their lips together, Francis humming when he tasted chocolate, peanut butter, and peppermint on Ivan's mouth, he mused, "But you know now that I'm never, ever going to leave you, right? You can't get rid of me so easily, cher*."

"Da, and I'll never forget it," Ivan whispered, bringing them into a kiss once more.

* * *

This is a continuation of my prompt story _He Decided to Send Flowers_. There might be more in this little series, but I'll put it as complete for now. The title may change if more is added on.

While I did a little looking around on anti-depressants and their side-effects, I didn't really do any serious research on them. I know that some can cause weight gain, but there are others that don't. I read some stuff online from people taking anti-depressants, and almost all of them complained about gaining all this weight that they could never seem to lose, so that's what I was going off of for this story.

I wanted to write some chubby Russia fluffs, and I also wanted to do a continuation for that prompt story, so it all just sort of worked out.

Mississippi Mud: One of the best ice cream flavors I have ever had in my entire life. It's chocolate, on top of chocolate, on chocolate - chocolate everywhere! It's just too bad that the flavor was seasonal, and that the first/only time I had it was when I was, like, six years old.

Translations for this story:

Jean: Ivan in French

Oui: "Yes" in French

Da: "Yes" in Russian

Amour: "Love" in French

Cher: "Dear: in French


End file.
